Collars and Badges
by RavenHart24
Summary: (Part 2 of Chains and Shackles) When Kate was killed and they found out Derek's sister was alive, Stiles assumed his life would return to normal. But that was further from the truth. After Stiles realizes how messed up the world really is, he decides to takes matters into his owns hands. He begins to jeopardize not only his job, but his relationship as well.
1. Chapter 1

You never know how crazy your life is until you're fighting for your life one day and having someone presumed dead pop into your life another day. It was amazing watching the relief flood Derek's face as he bolted towards his long lost sister.

"You're okay now," I could hear Derek mumbled as he walked Cora past the kitchen.

I rushed around the island, heating up some leftover soup Derek had made. I put cold water in a glass and grabbed all of it before I made my way into the living room.

Cora was here, she was back. The long lost sister that Derek had asked me about. She was safe and alive and asking for help. I wasn't going to deny her.

I padded into the living room and stopped in front of the two.

Derek sat on the table, his hands comforting the sister that sat on the couch in front of him. He glanced up at me, a slight weary smile on his face.

I handed the plate and cup towards Cora and offered her a friendly smile.

She didn't take the food or say anything, she simply glared back at me. Her lip almost raised in a snarl as her eyes took me in.

"Cora it's fine...This is Stiles. He saved me," Derek mumbled slowly, his eyes returning to his sister.

Due to the situation I almost missed the weight of his words. Almost. I saved him. It didn't seem real, but he was absolutely right. Every problem we faced seemed insignificant when the reality set in. I had saved Derek from a life in cages, from a life of constant beatings and torture. I had saved him and I intended to do the same thing for Cora.

She glanced at Derek for a second before she looked back over at me. "He's your Master?"

Derek nodded slowly. "Yes, but it's not like that at all."

Cora's nose twitched slightly as she leaned forward and grabbed the stuff from my hands. She sat back and took a sip of the water.

I didn't miss the way her nose hesitated above the glass, probably sniffing for poison or wolfsbane. I sat down, watching as Cora hesitantly took a sip of the water.

Derek scooted closer to his sister, his eyes trying to read her. "How did you make it out of there?"

Cora glanced over at me briefly before she turned her attention back on Derek. "The Argents, they took me out of the basement and took me somewhere else. Because I wasn't collared they were able to do as they pleased with me without repercussions. I don't know how I was able to escape, but I did," she mumbled before she sat the food back down onto the table. She didn't hesitate before she grabbed tightly onto Derek's biceps, her eyes boring into his. "Derek...I can't go back there. Please don't make me," she pleaded.

Derek nodded slowly, his hand rising to smooth through her hair. "Shhh, don't worry. Just finish eating okay. We'll figure it out," he whispered before he removed her hands from his arms. He held her hands in his for a few seconds before he stood up. He turned toward me, his eyes motioning me towards the kitchen.

I rose to my feet and made my way into the other room. I could hear Derek following behind me. I stopped by the counter and turned towards him.

He stalled, his eyes downcast. "Stiles I can't make her go back. I can't see her treated badly. It was my fault before and I can't do that again. I..." he trailed off, as if the words died just before he had a chance to speak.

I took a step closer to him. "Hey, don't ever think I'd make you do that. I'm not going to make her go back. She can stay here."

Derek looked up at that. His eyes connected with mine. "But she's not collared. We can't go get her collared because she'll be put down...but if someone finds out that she's here then..."

"Then we'll figure that out if it comes to that," I mumbled and gripped onto Derek's arm. "It'll be okay."

He sighed deeply, his eyes narrowed down at the floor. He didn't say anything else, clearly still unsure about what I had told him.

After that Derek seemed to hover around Cora and I allowed them to have their time. I had things I needed to tie up anyway. Since my leg, I didn't really have a stable income coming in, but my dad wouldn't let me get back onto the field. Which I was perfectly fine with, except for the fact that I barely had any income coming in. My dad met me halfway though and allowed me to come by the station and pick up some files that I could help him sort through. Of course I wasn't necessarily thrilled, but it gave me something to do while I was at home.

I had to go retrieve them from the station, but I was putting it off for the longest of time. I didn't feel comfortable leaving Derek alone. Although Kate was gone, I didn't want to chance it. Derek being shot was way too much of a close call for my taste. I knew that he wouldn't be comfortable leaving Cora either. So it ended with me not wanting to leave at all.

Cora still seemed very weary around me. She would avoid me at all costs and Derek would be there with her, which meant I barely saw him either. Which bothered me only a little, but I paid no mind. He seemed to know about the tension so he tried his hardest to not make it worse.

The guest room was turned into Cora's room and she seemed to be settling in very well. One day I even saw her pinning up photos she had printed off onto the wall.

I smiled at the thought as leaned back against the headboard, my legs tucked under me.

"What're you smiling at?" Derek asked as he rummaged through his drawer, searching for a shirt. His back was bare, his muscles moving with each movement. His tattoo another reminder of how close his family once was.

"She's just like you."

Derek turned toward me, a shirt in hand. "I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing," he said and slipped the shirt on.

I shrugged. "A little bit of both."

He smiled a little as he approached the bed. He sat down in front of me with his legs crossed.

I reached forward and grabbed one of his hands. When he didn't seem to protest I pulled it forward into my lap and ran my thin fingers over his skin. "I remember when you first got here. You were so tense and scared. It was so hard for me to read you cause you were so used to showing no emotion. I was so used to throwing my emotions at people," I mumbled as I ran one of my fingers down Derek's knuckle.

He nodded slowly before he spoke. "You understood why though...and I think that's what is important."

I stayed silent for a second, still fumbling with Derek's hands. There was something specific I wanted to get to, but I didn't want to worry him. I settled on entwining one of my hands with his and squeezed it softly. "I talked to my dad and he said the best route is to keep Cora a secret."

Derek nodded slowly, his eyes on our hands.

"But I do have to go into the station tomorrow to get some files from my dad."

"I'll go with you," he mumbled, his eyes finally rising to meet mine.

I shook my head. "It's okay Derek. I'll be okay, you should stay here with your sister."

He sighed, his head dropping like an ashamed dog. "The last time I let you go alone you were kidnapped and almost killed."

"That wasn't your fault-"

"I know. It's just...I want to go," he mumbled and looked up at me, his green eyes almost pleading with me.

I nodded and smiled at him.

He pulled my hand into his lap, pulling my body closer to him as he leaned in carefully. His lips touched mine, soft and careful as he kissed me. He tipped my head up with his other hand, his breath ghosting on my cheek. His thumb trailed along my jawline, holding me in place.

When he finally pulled back I was out of breath and smiling stupidly. He pressed his forehead against mine, eyes still closed.

I opened my eyes and watched his peaceful face. He was content, his eyes shut and his lips curling up in a light smile. His hand was still on my face, his warm skin still against mine. His lips parted slightly as he released a breath before he spoke three words that stopped my heart. "I love you," he stated, his voice strong and sure. His eyes opened then, finding mine.

I stared into his eyes, memorizing the golden flicks of color that swirled in the field of green. I realized how much these three words meant. They weren't three words that people muttered to each other because they had to. These were three words that Derek had not said in years. Three words that he had probably only said to his family. Three words that meant home, that Derek felt safe and secure with me.

I smiled, my eyes still on his. "I love you too Derek."

He seemed content as his eyes shut, his shoulders relaxing.

Seeing him like this made all the struggle worth it. He was calm and safe. That's what mattered and in that moment the outside world seemed small and insignificant. The horrid stereotypes labeled on Derek seemed to wash away, taken to deeper waters as sand no longer on the beach. We seemed to be wading in the shores, surrounded by clear skies and crystal water. We had been sucked into the depths by the currents, but somehow we had managed to swim our way back to the shore.

That's what had allowed me to be optimistic, to sit there in that moment tracing the lines of Derek's face with my finger tips. He didn't seem to mind when I ran my fingers along his jawline or when I pulled him next to me on the bed.

He laid down beside me, his eyes opening to find mine. He watched me get comfortable, which consisted of me fidgeting constantly until I finally settled into the mattress.

I pulled him closer and pressed my cheek against his chest. I inhaled a deep breath before I stilled, my eyes closing.

"Comfortable?"

I smirked. "Very much so." I don't remember if Derek answered, but I know the sleep I received that night was absolutely refreshing.

The next day Derek woke me up when he crawled out of bed. I rolled back over at first, but eventually pried myself out of bed and made my way downstairs. Cora was munching on the corner of a pancake smiling at something Derek must of said.

Derek leaned against the counter mug cradled in his hands.

Cora's smile dropped as I entered, but I paid no attention as I made my way to the coffee. I fixed myself a cup and turned toward the two. "Morning Cora, did you sleep good?"

She hesitated slightly, glancing at her brother carefully, before she turned a smile on me. It wasn't a full smile, just a polite smirk. "Yeah I did."

I returned her smile. It was progress. She was at least able to talk to me without shuddering or glaring at the floor. I'd call that progress.

About halfway through the day I pulled on some clothes and left with Derek to get to the station. He seemed a little hesitant to leave Cora, but he had made it pretty clear he was coming with me. So I drove to the station, with Derek tapping his foot to whatever song was playing on the radio.

My father seemed thrilled to see us both. He kept us there far longer than necessary complaining about recent cases. I didn't really mind though. It was nice to pick back up on some of the recent affairs in the station. Nothing dire seemed to be happening, just some abuse cases that weren't too serious.

We talked for way too long considering my dad was supposed to be 'working'. Eventually I got the files and we headed home.

I balanced the cases atop my lap as I drove home. There wasn't much traffic, which was per usual for Beacon Hills, and we were home in no time. I pulled into the driveway and parked before I started pulling the files to my chest. I was pulling my keys out of the car when I heard Derek mutter something inaudible, his eyes focused on the house.

"What?" I questioned, studying his form.

His muscles clenched as he perched on the edge of the seat. His hand dug into the leather seat, his other hand hovering on the door. He kept his eyes on the house a few seconds longer before he spoke. "Something's wrong," he mumbled, his voice verging on a growl.


	2. Chapter 2

I could hear the shakiness of his voice as he teetered on the edge of the seat, his eyes locked on the house in front of him.

He then threw the door open and sprinted toward the house.

I dropped out of my seat and shut the door before I ran after him. I watched him throw the front door open and run inside.

The door swung from the impact, almost slamming back into me. I pushed it open and trotted inside. The front hall was empty, no one in site. I sat the files down on the side table, looking around cautiously. "Derek?" I whispered and made my way into the living room. My footsteps sounded like drums in the silent house, accompanied by the bass guitar of my heart in my chest. My eyes landed on a crumpled piece of paper that was thrown on the table. I reached down and grabbed it, the red ink reminding me of the crude newspapers I once burned. Scribbled across the paper was:

 _ **a little gift for you wolf boy**_

I stared at the note, studying the harsh words that were written. I could practically hear the sarcasm rolling off the words. I let the paper fall back onto the table.

That's when I heard it. The ache of old wood. The low groan of it being stressed.

I held my breath and followed the noise into the kitchen. I froze, my hand covering my gaping mouth as I stared at what had become of my kitchen.

Twine was tied around one of the low hanging beams, purple flowers scattered here and there across the rope. The rope hung down and wrapped around the neck of the female werewolf I was trying to help. The twine was wrapped around her throat several times, a black substance seeping through the holes of the rope.

Cora's neck was hanging limply, her hair thrown forward. Her hands dangling by her sides, covered in burns and wounds that had to have been done by experienced hunters. She was pale, her skin devoid of life. Cuts covered this pale skin, some of the deep ones covered by the pajamas that she had wore. The purple t shirt was a cruel reminder of how young and innocent she was. The fabric was lost in the rips and strips that were torn into it. The only movement her body held was the slight sway of her limbs from the banister and the light drip of black blood from her lips.

I followed the drop of black substance as it fell down onto the tile, my eyes stopping on the form on the ground.

Derek was kneeled on the floor, his head tipped up as he stared at what had become of his sister. He was still, his limbs tense but unmoving. He didn't utter a word or any syllable for that matter. He simply sat there.

I stepped forward, my hand hovering over his shoulder for a split second before I gripped onto the fabric there.

He seemed to slump down further, his shoulders sagging and his head almost falling forward.

I dug my hand into his shoulder, steadying him. "Derek?" I whispered, my thumb rubbing circles on his arm.

He didn't respond to my touch, but I could see the shaking start. At first it was just a slight twitch in his arm, but eventually his whole body was trembling, his eyes still glued on his sisters hanging form.

I had to get him out of here and away from Cora's lifeless body. I slid in front of him, my hand moving from his shoulder to his face. My fingers drummed against his skin, my eyes taking in his face.

He was ghost white, his skin almost matching Cora's pale face. His dull eyes were still aimed upwards. The light that I had become used to disappeared, now replaced by a lifeless stare. He looked hopeless. Not like a werewolf that was wronged, but like a brother that had his heart ripped out. His lips parted and he began mumbling.

It took me a few seconds to make out what Derek was saying.

"...It's my fault. I told her I wouldn't leave again and I left her. I left her to die. It's my fault," he whispered, his voice low.

It reminded me of how he used to be, before I earned his trust, before he opened up to me. "Derek this is not your fault. None of this is your fault," I mumbled, my thumb stroking the skin on his cheek.

He finally tore his eyes away from his sister's body and found mine. His forest eyes seemed to clear, the fog slightly diminishing as his irises traced the lines of my face. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words seemed to get caught in his throat.

I stood up and pulled Derek up with me.

He seemed to moved with mechanical movements, his limbs dragging as I guided him out of the room.

I had to take care of what happened, but I didn't want Derek to see anymore than he absolutely had to. I kept that in my mind as I led his body up the stairs and into my room.

He didn't object when I led him to the bed, but he didn't seem to muster up and kind of emotion. His face was blank, his eyes staying on me as I laid down on the bed. I pulled him down beside me.

He curled in on himself, his hand digging into the pillow roughly. His eyes lingered on me for a few more seconds before they closed. His face was still except one single tear that escaped from his closed eyes.

I grabbed his other hand and placed it between both of mine.

It seemed wrong that I was on the bed comforting Derek as Cora's dead body hung from my kitchen banister. It almost made me feel guilty for not tending to Cora first, but I had promised myself that I would keep Derek safe and comfortable. So this was my priority in that moment. Holding Derek as he fell into a dark sleep.

I could tell when he fell asleep, but I stayed there for a few minutes longer. Making sure he was fully asleep and making sure that he didn't wake up from a nightmare. I knew they would be there, dancing along his eyelids, trying to pull him under the waves. But I would be there, holding him up in the water, doing the same thing he did for me.

I gently scooted away from Derek, my movements slow so I didn't wake him. I made my way downstairs and pulled out my phone. I stood in the middle of the living room, refusing to walk into the kitchen, with the phone pressed to my ear.

"Stiles?" My father's tired voice echoed throughout the phone.

"Dad? I need your help, just you though," I mumbled into the phone, my eyes scanning over the crumpled piece of paper that was now on the floor.

My father seemed skeptical at first, but he hung up with the promise that he'd be here soon. His promise rang true when he arrived some time later. He walked in slowly, his eyes scanning me. "What's going on?"

I gnawed on the side of my thumb as I motioned my other hand toward the kitchen.

He hesitated slightly before he entered the kitchen.

I heard him gasp, but I didn't see his reaction. I wouldn't look. I couldn't look up at the body that swayed slightly. My eyes stayed glued to the ground as I chewed on one of my nails. "It's Derek's sister," I mumbled, my voice distorted from my finger in my mouth.

My father walked over to me and placed his hands on my shoulders. "Where's Derek?"

"He's upstairs sleeping."

My father nodded before he spoke again. "Are you okay?"

I shrugged, my eyes finally rising to find his.

He watched me carefully before he turned his attention on the crime scene before him.

I'm not completely sure how he got Cora down, I ended up leaving the room the first chance I got. I did see him carry her body out with a blanket carefully draped over her.

He paused on his way out the door. "I'll make sure she gets a proper burial, do you know who did this to her?"

I rattled my mind, but nothing seemed to come up. Kate was dead, and no one else knew about the new werewolf in my home. I shook my head slowly.

He sighed and glanced down at the body he held in his arms. "I will find who did this."

I nodded silently, unable to find any words to thank him. I stood there for a few seconds before I mustered up enough courage to get cleaning supplies and go into the kitchen.

Cora's body was gone, but the scene flashed in my mind. There was an indent in the banister, where the rope had been. There was a mixture of black and red substances splattered onto the floor, as if someone had spilled paint.

I crouched down on the floor, my knees pressed hard into the wooden flooring, as I placed the basket I held beside me. I pulled out a brush and poured every kind of chemical I could onto it. I began to scrub, the chemicals mixing with the blood. The bristles scraped against the floor, pulling the blood stains off the ground.

I thought that this was over. I had thought that Derek was finally safe and happy, but once again I was wrong. Once again Derek was put through something no human should ever have to be put through. He was hurting and I could do nothing about it. It seemed as if everyone was out to get us, targeting us when all we wanted to do was be happy. My faith in humanity was lost, completely thrown out the window. Humans had turned into ignorant selfish creatures that killed and hurt for fun. I was tired of it.

 _Scrub_

I wanted to show everyone what was going on on.

 _Scrub_

I wanted to stop it.

I froze, my movements stopping mid scrub. I had got the most idiotic idea ever. The most ridiculous idea, but still it seemed to slam around inside my head. Demanding to be heard, demanding to be accomplished. I wasn't going to deny it that luxury.


	3. Chapter 3

I had finished scrubbing and packed up the cleaning supplies.

I plopped down at my computer, the idea still fresh in my mind. After a few minutes of haggling the internet I found Deaton's email and quickly sent him a few simple questions. The idea was simple, but rather complicated to accomplish. With Deaton's help, I would find clothes and articles to hide my identity as I perform a series of propaganda. It sounded almost heroic, but in reality I wasn't going to do this peacefully.

Deaton replied immediately, stressing that this was far important than anything he was currently doing. He had decided to put this on his priority list which meant he would get everything to me by the next night.

With that off my mind and the kitchen clear I was finally able to return back to Derek.

He was still asleep, but he didn't look as peaceful as he had before. He was on his side, his hand curled into the pillow that laid beneath his head. His breath seemed to come unevenly, a short exhale before a rough shaky inhale. His brow was curled, his face pulled up in a wince.

I felt drawn to him, as if my presence would solve all of his problems. I knew it wouldn't, but I still felt responsible. So I walked closer to the bed and crawled in next to him. I pried his hand off the pillow and laced my fingers with his.

He inhaled a deep breath before his body finally relaxed, his face becoming slack and his muscles releasing.

I laid there for a while, just watching the way Derek's chest rose and fell with each breath. He was finally calm and relaxed and I think that reassurance was what allowed me to close my eyes and fall asleep.

That next morning I woke up before Derek and slugged my way into the kitchen to fix him some coffee.

When he joined me in the kitchen he didn't say a word, but he came up behind me and wrapped his thick arms around me.

These moments were what I reveled in. These simple things that made everything seem to disappear as if it was nothing. These simple things that keep me pushing on because I knew that one day these simple things would be more important than the rest of this.

That day I was able to talk Derek into going and visiting Cora's grave.

It was late in the afternoon, the sun hanging loosely in the sky threatening to hide away for the night. The walk was slow, my hand entwined tightly into Derek's simply because I was afraid that if I let go he'd run away. I held him there as we walked, growing closer to the place I had told my father to place her.

When we grew closer I felt Derek pull away from me. He made his way over to a field of tulips. He crouched down, observing the way the flowers swayed and danced in the afternoon wind. One particular tulip seemed to be brighter than the rest, just one that seemed to sway with more passion. This was the one he picked, his fingers finding the base of the stem and plucking gently. He held it tight between his fingers as he made his way back to me.

Once he got close enough, I reached for his hand to continue the rest of the way.

My father did an amazing job, the whole scene was even better than I ever could imagined.

By the sparkling water, that me and Derek had once swam in so long ago, sat a large oak. It's limbs stretched out to the sky, full with evergreen leaves and sprinkled with white flowers. The sun broke through this thick canopy of leaves, creating rays that shined down on the forest floor. Beneath this tree, right in the ray of light, was a wooden cross stuck into the ground. The wood of the cross was decorated with various swirled that were engraved into it. In the center of the swirls there was two letters engraved in the wood, CH. Cora Hale.

On the corner of the cross there was a flower crown hanging from the wood. The crown was made from some type of root, that was completely covered in various leaves and white flowers. You couldn't see the dark wood of the roots simply because the colors of the the flowers seemed to shroud and cover it.

Derek released my hand and stepped forward, his movements slow and calculated. He suddenly dropped to the ground, his knees hitting the soft dirt. With a shaky hand, he reached forward and let his fingers graze over the wood.

I stepped forward and crouched down behind him. I pressed my forehead against his back and placed my hand on his shoulder. I could feel his breath hitch slightly before he attempted to speak.

"This...this is my fault," he whispered.

I rose my head, squeezing his shoulder as I spoke. "None of this is your fault. In fact I'm sure right now Cora's looking down at you from a better place saying how stupid you're being right now," I stated and nudged his back a little.

He let out a little huff, torn between laughter and a sigh. "I just can't stop seeing her like that...hanging from that banister." His voice sounded broken, lost.

I pressed my hand on his back, right where his tattoo was. "Remember the real Cora. The sweet girl who is as stubborn as you are. The Cora that hung pictures of wolves in her room."

Derek smiled, a little broken crooked smirk that was filled with mixed emotions. "When I was little, Cora would drag me out of the house on bad days and take me deep into the forest. She would try her hardest to make me laugh. First she would roll around in a field of flowers, crawling and diving until she found what she was looking for. As soon as she found the perfect daffodil she would plop down in front of me and blow the little fluffs right in my face."

I smiled, listening to this story made me realize that this was the first time Derek had willingly shared his family life with me.

"No matter how upset I was, she was always there to make me laugh."

I smiled and let my eyes trail to the cross that was in front of us. Right next to it, growing out of the ground was a tiny daffodil. I scooted out from behind Derek and carefully reached forward. I plucked the plant out of the ground and moved back towards Derek. I stopped just in front of him and held the daffodil carefully out to him.

He reached out, his hand overlapping mine. He stayed like that for a few seconds, his eyes trailing up to meet mine. The golden fleck in his eyes seemed to be swirling as his gaze returned to the daffodil. He carefully took it between his fingers and held it up to his face, as he examined the white fluffs.

"Now it's your turn to blow the little fluffs into the air."

Derek closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath before he blew on the daffodil. The little white tuffs flew into the air, blowing and swirling with the wind.

I watched the tuffs float in front of my face, embracing this moment and all it had to offer.

We stayed there for a while, listening to the wind and the slow breathing of each other's calm breaths. I didn't feel compelled to fill the silence with words. I simply sat beside Derek offering comfort without saying a single syllable.

We returned home before the sun went down and I was instantly reminded that I had to go meet with Deaton. The problem was, I didn't want Derek sucked into this mess. So he couldn't know that I was becoming a sort of vigilante, but I didn't want to leave him alone. I didn't want to return to find him hanging from the banister. So I was able to talk my dad into coming over for dinner. Derek didn't seem to mind the company.

When my father assured me he was on his way I told Derek I had to pick up a few things. With Halloween a few days away it didn't seem very unlikely, with me having to pick up candy for the local kids. Which I did end up doing, but after that I made a pit stop at the vet's office.

I strolled through the doors, snorting at the closed sign as I made my way into Deaton's office.

Deaton was leaning back in his chair with a surprise guest standing next to him.

"Lydia? What the hell are you doing here?" I mumbled, observing the red heads mischievous smirk.

She flipped her hair in one movement and stepped closer to me. "Did you really think I'd allow Deaton to design your outfit? I mean sure he's good at functionality, but you have to look presentable as well," she chirped and patted me on the shoulder.

I turned my gaze toward Deaton and cocked my eyebrow at him.

He shrugged and stood up from his chair before he spoke. "Can you really blame me for giving in? Lydia tends to have a very manipulative tendency."

Lydia gasped, her hand rising to rest on her chest. "Me manipulative? I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about Doctor D," she stated and strode back over to the desk. She hopped up on top of it, her legs dangling off the side.

I shook my head, a smile playing on her lips. I wanted the least amount of people to know about this, but I can't say that I'm not relieved that Lydia's on my side. With her spunk in the side lines I could practically win any war.

"So on with the presenting," she chirped, her heels clicking against the wood of the desk.

Deaton turned and pulled a box out from under his desk. The first thing he pulled out was a hoodie, similar to my red one but jet black. Then he pulled out two gloves. They were thick, leather on the wrists that overlapped golden metal. The metal continued to the fingers, shaping out to sharp claws on each finger.

"The claws on this baby are sturdy enough to slice through skin and you'll still have full range of your fingers. The fabric under the metal will keep your fingers from leaving prints," he mumbled before he placed that back down on the desk. He then pulled out a mask, one so stunning that I lost my ability to breath for a second.

It was a wolf mask, made entirely out of silver metal. The material seemed to shine in the light, it's muzzle shaping down into a perfect slant. It's ears were sharp and it had a thick line of metal that ran between its nose and it's eyes. Thick screws held the metal to the rest of the mask. The eyes were slanted, two black holes that seemed to be shaped exactly like that of a wolves.

"Wow...It's gorgeous," I mumbled and stepped forward. I took the mask and held it in my hands. The metal was cool, but the eyes seemed to be burning into me. Reminding me of why exactly I was doing this. I looked back up at Deaton.

"Make us proud Stiles."

I nodded, my eyes trailing down to the mask before I glanced over at Lydia.

She had a smirk plastered on her face, her arms crossed intensely. "Kick some ass Stilinski."

I smiled. "I will," I stated looking between the two of them. Yes, I would make them proud in a weird law breaking kind of way. And hell yes I would kick some ass. I would tear down the laws that define not only Derek, but Scott and Cora as well. I would force people to realize that Derek deserves a chance. A chance that Cora didn't have.


	4. Chapter 4

Halloween rolled around quickly and my excitement grew more and more each day. The fall wind rolled in, bringing the beautiful autumn leaves with it. Halloween was always one of my favorite holidays and I typically filled it with tons of haunted houses, but this year I wanted a calm day. One that was full of sweets and of course a very ridiculous costume.

I stood in the mirror, fixing my hair to the perfect length. My white button up shirt was tucked into my back jeans, topped with red sneakers. Only one more thing that topped the whole outfit off. I leaned toward my desk and grabbed the red fabric. I tossed it over my shoulders and tied the little red string that was hanging from the top of the fabric. With one fluid movement I pulled the hood up over my head, allowing one section of hair to swoop out of the hood.

When I walked downstairs, Derek was exactly where I had thought he was. Sitting on the couch, book nestled in his hands and his feet kicked up on the table.

I stepped into the doorway. "So you know how I said Halloween was my favorite holiday?"

"Yeah," He mumbled, his eyes never moving from the book in his hands.

"Well I really meant it," I mumbled and walked closer. I pressed my palms into the armrest and leaned forward.

Derek finally looked up and met my eyes. His eyes widened as he took in the hood that sat atop my head. "What the hell are you wearing?" He tried to fight the smile the rose onto his face.

I stepped around the couch and kneeled on the cushion next to him. "I'm little red riding hood, but ya know...the male version," I stated and wrapped my arm over the back of the cushion he was leaning against.

Derek nodded slowly and smirked at me. "So Mr. Red Riding hood where's your basket of cookies?"

"Oh that? Yeah I ate them all."

Derek chuckled, the most beautifulest sound that I could of ask for in that moment. "You're such an idiot."

I pressed my forehead against his shoulder. "Yeah and I'm your idiot," I smiled before I sat up straight, looking Derek straight in the eye. "So Mr. Wolf can I see those red eyes of yours?"

He sighed, a smirk playing on his face as he looked away from me for a brief second.

"Aw come on wolfy," I pleaded and nudged my knee against his leg.

When he finally turned to me, his eyes were glowing bright red. The crimson over taking the normal emerald in his eyes.

A huge grin broke out on my face as I fist pumped the air. "Red riding hood and his wolf, taking on the world," I stated, my hand sweeping the air like I was showcasing a new car.

"We should take on dinner. I'm starving," Derek stated, his arm nudging me off the couch.

"Fine. Fine. Dinner for now, but I'm telling you we should totally go on the road," I gave in, grabbing Derek's hand and tugging him off the couch.

We had just started throwing together dinner when the doorbell rang, reminding me exactly why I had threw on this cap in the first place.

I ran over to the pantry. "Shit, Derek can you get the door? I'll get the candy," I rambled, vaguely aware of Derek exiting the kitchen.

Once I pulled out the bag of candy I made my way into the foyer, just as Derek was opening the door. I stepped up beside him, balancing the large bag in my hands.

A small group of children stood on our doorstep, of various ages and heights. Their costumes were unique, broadcasting the different personalities in each of them.

The little girl in the front opened her mouth to say something, but the words seemed stuck in her throat. She stared up at Derek, teetering on her bright red sneakers. Her little tutu swayed with the moment, the fake spiders that were entangled in the tule didn't give away the costume. It was the huge spiderman logo that sat on her chest, that truly gave away the little geek.

"You're Derek Hale right?" She asked, her little voice curious but not afraid.

Derek side glanced me, before he looked back down at the child. "...yes," he mumbled, his voice hesitant.

Her little green eyes dropped as she fiddled with the plastic pumpkin bucket she held. "We're really sorry for what happened to you. Some people in this world are really mean...but we all want to tell you that good things come to good people."

The normally calculated werewolf beside me was stunned for a few seconds. Finally he spoke, his voice a little unsure. "Good people?"

The little boy beside the girl stepped forward, bouncing on his heels. "Yeah you and Stilin..Stil."

Based on the look the little girl gave him I could tell they were brother and sister.

She sighed and turned an intense glare on the boy. "His name is pronounced Stilinski," she corrected him before she turned her attention back to us. "Just remember that things get better," she chirped and smiled.

Derek seemed frozen, taking in the words in an almost awe.

The little girl rose her bucket in the air. "Trick or Treat."

After the kids had left and Derek had shut the door, I turned toward him. "Wow my faith in humanity has rose a little...well at least in the younger generation."

Derek smirked before he stepped closer to me and wrapped his arm over my shoulder. "Come on little red, let's go finish dinner," He teased and lead me toward the kitchen.

Once dinner was closer to being done, the doorbell rang once more. Except this time, it wasn't a few kids. Nope it was my werewolf best friend and his sappy girlfriend, who were both sporting costumes. Allison, wore a bright yellow dress. The fabric clinging to her torso before it flared out in a dramatic drape. Scott wore a tailored blue tuxedo with yellow trimming. Granted as a child I preferred Star Wars over Disney, but it didn't take a genius to tell that they were Belle and the beast.

"Wow real unique guys," I teased, leaning against the door frame.

Scott's eyebrows rose, as his eyes took in the red hood that trailed behind me. "Oh and let me guess, Derek's the wolf," he said with a knowingly smile.

"He may or may not of agreed to that, but that's besides the point."

Scott lost his composure, laughing...well...like the beast he is.

"So what are you two love birds doing down at la casa de Stiles?"

He was finally able to gather himself enough to answer my question. "We figured we give you guys some company," he chirped, but I could see the sadness in his eyes. He knew about Cora. He had to know. With the way that he glancing behind me before he fixed his gaze on me.

I sighed. "I don't know, it's been a long day and-"

"And I have this," Allison interrupted, raising her hands in the sky like she was carrying a very important lion cub. Which, all Disney puns aside, was a very important item.

"You brought me cake?" I gasped, my eyes focused on the oasis she held in her hands.

She nodded, excitedly. "So I say we kick back and rent some horror movies to get this Halloween night pumping."

I don't know if company really sounded good, or if the cake in her hand was taking over my brain. Either way I agreed to have them over and Derek actually seemed quite happy to have them there.

There was a certain light in his eyes when Scott ran over and tackled him with a hug.

Allison, of course, wasn't as touchy. She made herself right at home, yelling her hello over the commotion of Scott bear hugging Derek.

We were in the middle of waiting for the food to be done cooking in the oven when Allison's tone dropped. She looked at me first. "Can I talk to Derek?" Then she froze and glanced over at him. "I mean if it's okay with you."

Derek's eyes found mine, before he nodded and rose from his seat.

Once they were in the backyard, Scott nudged me his eyes focused on the window where you could see the two standing.

Allison's dressed shined in the light, a stark contrast from the full black garb that I had forced Derek to wear.

"She said she had wanted to talk to him about losing someone so close," he stated and leaned back against the counter. "How's he doing?"

I sighed, my eyes finding Derek's frame through the window. "As good as he can be, I guess. He's still having nightmares, but I think my presence calms him a lot. Relatively speaking, he has been smiling."

Scott nodded slowly, before he glanced over at me. "And how are you?"

I shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. I knew he'd see through it though. "I'm getting there. I just...I don't feel comfortable leaving him here alone. That's when C...what happened, happened. I don't want him to feel like I'm suffocating him though."

"I don't think what happened would happen to Derek. He's a collared were, that being said, if someone was to harm him you'd have them caught by law. They saw she didn't have a collar and took their chance."

I nodded and glanced over at Scott. My eyes caught on the thick leather that wrapped around his throat, right under that stupid crooked jaw of his. "I hate this."

"What?" he asked and looked over at me.

"I hate this law. I hate that good people like Cora have to suffer. I hate that you and Derek are confined to life with a collar…"

Scott's hand rose and landed on my shoulder. "If it means anything, both me and Derek have very good homes. It makes this whole law a little less crueler."

I smiled, my eyes trailing back to look out the window. "That's true, I just wish all were's had that luxury."

"Me too Stiles. Me too."

A few minutes after Allison and Derek returned the food was ready.

Derek seemed a little down after he walked back in, but that seemed to fade away fast when he was back inside.

We all separated to do our assigned jobs. Derek was to go and retrieve blankets and pillows for the living room floor. Allison was supposed to search the movies to find some good ones. Scott gathered drinks for everyone and I grabbed some pizza for everyone.

Allison ended up picking about three different movies and none of us really complained.

I had snuggled down into Derek's arms, the blanket close to my face and his arms wrapped around me. Don't get me wrong, I love scary movies, but I have to ward off the inevitable goosebumps the suspense gives me.

Derek didn't seem to mind that I was practically laying on top of him. He just shuffled down into the blankets, his warm breath blowing against the top of my head.

Scott, being the sugar puppy he is, was engrossed in the movie. Muttering comments almost as if he was in the actual movie.

This didn't bother me though, in fact, it was almost refreshing. I made it through half of the second movie before I passed out.

Allison and Scott didn't plan on spending the night, but somewhere between the chase scene and the stab scene we all fell asleep.

When I woke up, the sun was blinding me from the window, casting shadows on the face in front of me.

It was almost like before, when me and Scott used to sleep over and pass out playing video games. He was even sleeping the same way. His arm stretched out, dangerously close to becoming a weapon to my face. His nose twitched slightly. It was the same, yet very different.

For one, I had a huge warm werewolf wrapped around me.

Derek's face was stuffed into the crook of my neck, his breath splaying out over my collar bone. His arm was locked securely around my waist, his hand laying over my chest, right where my heart was. His legs were tangled and wrapped around mine.

Two, Scott had his own little cling on attached to him.

Allison was curled around him, her head laying on his chest.

I smiled and looked back up at Scott, right as his eyes flickered open.

"Morning Scotty."

His eyes finally pried open, a loopy grin forming on his face. "Good morning Stiles. Just like old times huh?"

"Yeah, just like old times."

Although it was different I had to admit that I really loved the differences.

Breakfast was filled with smiles and random spurts of food fights. Derek played sourwolf when I threw some scrambled eggs at him and they landed in his hair. That facade didn't last long though before he smiled and plucked the food particles out of his hair and stuffed them in his mouth.

This is what I wanted our life to be like. Random sleepovers in the middle of the week, breakfast food fights and uncontrollable laughter. No more death, no more fights. I knew that was too much to ask for though, not right now at least. I had a job to be done and that realization hit me like a freight train. Powerful and intense. Was I scared? I guess, but the need to enact revenge was so strong that my fear seemed to be nonexistent.


	5. Chapter 5

That night was my first night. I forced myself out of the bed after I was absolutely positive that Derek was out good. Getting out of the house, without waking a werewolf was probably the most difficult thing I have ever had to do. My equipment was waiting for me in the car, tucked under the black hoodie was the shiny metal that seemed to be glistening in the light waiting for me to put it on.

I knew what I had to do. The house wasn't far and the man that lived there would be going to work in exactly 10 minutes. Then he'd get what was coming to him. Reports have said he is a constant offender of werewolf abuse and I was ready to allow karma to pay him a little visit.

The 12 minutes to get there felt like hours, the anticipation growing and stirring inside of me.

I made sure to park a few houses away to prepare. I grabbed the pile that sat in the back seat and placed it on my lap. I slipped on the hoodie, the black fabric feeling like silk over my arms. The gloves slid on with no problem, the golden claws shining, ready for vengeance. The mask was the last thing, the dark slits glaring at me, sucking me in. I placed the metal onto my face and secured the strap behind my head. I then pulled my hood up onto my head letting it lay right behind the pointy ears of the mask.

I looked up and through the slits of the mask I could see the man walk out from his front door. He locked it and proceeded to his car.

I glared at the man, watching as he walked as if he had no care in the world. Well I was about the change that.

Once he pulled out I grabbed the bag that was sitting patiently in the passenger seat and hopped out the car. The absence of street lights made my job so easy. I casually strode across the street and into the man's backyard. Breaking in was easy with the baseball bat I brought. A simple swing to the back door and the glass came shattering down in front of me.

I smiled and stepped through, greeted by darkness. The glass crunched beneath my sneakers as I entered the house. The house was huge, with a beautiful chandelier in the middle of the dining room to top it off. It made me sick. To see this man boast his wealth as if he was a saint. This sickness, this anger pushed me on. Encouraging me to do something I never thought I'd even consider in my lifetime.

I made my way through the darkness, the silence a thick heavy blanket that sat on my shoulders, pushing down on me with each step. I found the stairs with no problem and made my way to the second floor.

I knew no one was home. This man lived alone. His sad little life full of nothing, but torturing people who are too weak to actually fight back. His facebook had been so easy to find, full of pictures of him parading around with the people he calls friends. All of them there for nothing else, but his money. Of course he didn't care though. I mean what man would want real friends when he had this dirty little secret tucked into his jacket.

Oh, but I was about the bring that secret to the light. Broadcast to the world how big this problem is and, above that, how truly wrong it is. Show them that people like this are sick and demented and that they deserve to be punished. More than just a simple slap on the wrist, they need chains locked down on them in the form of handcuffs. Jumpsuits the color of the spilt werewolf's blood so people know. They know of what these people have done.

First, I had to focus on this though. So I gathered myself and entered the man's bedroom. There was nothing interesting in the room, a bland tan seemed to be the main color in the room, except a shiny object that sat upon the dresser. Once I got closer the shiny object became much more appealing, the metal becoming more threatening when I realized exactly what it was. A pistol sat atop the wood, glistening and calling for me just like my mask had. I grabbed the gun and held it in my hands, feeling the weight of it and the damage it could do. This was for protection though.

With that reminder I tucked the weapon into my waistband and took another glance around the room. I unzipped the bag that hung off my shoulder and retrieved the baseball bat I had stored in there. Once I held it in my hand, I let the bag drop to the floor. The thud sounded distant as I took the bat in both hands. It was a simple wooden bat, but the possibilities it held turned the room into a playground.

I turned my gaze on the lamp that sat in front of me and lifted the bat above my head. There was a split second before I swung that my morals seemed to creep up on me, forcing me to hesitate. I reminded myself, of exactly, what this man had done and that hesitation faded and I swung as hard as I could. The end of the bat collided with the lamp, shattering the vase and sending the lamp flying across the room. The pieces littered the floor, dotting the plain carpet.

There was a few seconds of silence before the relief flooded through me. The feeling of vengeance, of a righteous sin. Then the urge to do more, to feel more. I remember blanking out for second and coming to right before my bat collided with one of the windows. The glass shattered outward, dancing in the wind before collecting on the grass below.

The other two windows didn't have a chance for they were shattered in the few seconds following the first one.

My breath came heavy at this point, my chest rising and falling rapidly with my quick movements. That pause to catch my breath was when my eyes connected with a flat screen tv that blended with the wall. So camouflaged that I almost didn't see it...but I did and everything in that moment was telling me to destroy it. So I did just that. Swinging and hitting until the tv was in chunks upon the floor.

One look at my destruction and I knew one thing was missing. The reason why I was doing this. Something that when this asshole returned he would know why this was done to him.

I walked over to my bag and rummaged through it, moving the supplies I had in my bag around, searching for something. My gaze froze on a can of spray paint, the label screaming up at me. That's when I knew what I was to do.

I ripped the comforter off the bed, revealing the white sheet underneath. I gazed at my canvas as I shook the can of paint in my hand. I leaned onto the bed, watching as the red paint stained the fresh sheets. When I was done I stepped back and gazed at the words that were sprawled over the sheets.

'Blame The Humans, Not The Wolves'

The red paint was a stark contrast to the room, but I needed a little more anticipation than this. I wanted the man to feel utterly terrified as he made his way up to his room.

I used the red spray paint to add a little color to my glove, coating the end of the claws with red. As I made my way out into the hallway, I dug the claws into the wallpaper, clawing my way through it as I continued down. The red paint left perfect claw marks into the wall, dripping down in some parts. If it wasn't for the smell you wouldn't be able to tell it wasn't blood.

I made it down to the kitchen and decided to add one last finishing touch to the house. Starting from the door I had broken into and continuing until the staircase, I added paw prints. Crudely painted down with red paint. For someone whose art experience consists of doodles, the paws looked pretty professional. Proportioned perfectly and spaced out evenly, as if am actually wolf had padded through. It was all perfect, laid out beautifully for him to see and soon everyone else to see.

The break in was in the news, sprawled all over the front page with pictures of everything. My crude red lettering popping against the white computer screen. It was amazing, the publicity that this was getting...that I was getting. This was what the cause needed to get everyone to see what was going on.

I couldn't stop here. And I didn't. Every other night I would sneak out long after Derek was asleep and become a masked vigilante. House after house I broke into and left my mark, everyone proving a point. That enslaving werewolves was wrong and that abusing them was even worse.

Eventually people starting piecing together the break ins and speculations were made that it was a rogue werewolf. No one knew what to expect, until a nearby camera happened to capture a glimpse of me as I was entering a house. Thankfully my mask came in handy and that was the only distinguishable thing. Everything else was just a black shadow. So I guess that's how the name started. Every news reporter around town began calling me 'The Black Wolf'.

I couldn't help but adopt the name. It fit so well and, I mean, it did have a fantastic ring to it.


	6. Chapter 6

The runs in the houses were going amazing, but I decided to switch something up this time. I needed more variety. So instead of going to a house I went to a pound, set on symbolizing how wrong caging these people were.

Surprisingly it wasn't difficult to break in. A simple crowbar to the lock on the back door and boom I was in.

The hallway was dark, the sound of chains dragging against the floor and ominous soundtrack that seemed to get louder as I made it down the corridor. In each of the cages there was a pair of different colored eyes staring back at me. In some crimson red eyes glared back at me, in others innocent yellows stared at me.

I passed by slowly, my movements slow and deliberate, my eyes scanning the cages the surrounded me. My hands gripped tightly around my bat, knuckles turning white with the amount of pressure I was using.

When I made it into the lobby all sound seemed to quiet down and it hit me what I was to do next. Time for the real job. I pulled the bag off my back and let it hit the floor. Spray Paint first and then it was time to let my bat have a little fun.

As I was digging through my bag the sound of footsteps rose from down the hall. I pulled my pistol out of my bag and turned on my heel, holding the gun level. The barrel was leveled with someone else's shotgun, the two silver weapons glinting in the moonlight that filtered through the window.

"The Black Wolf?" Her voice broke through the silence, a curious childlike tone to her voice.

I remained silent, my gun still leveled.

The shotgun aimed at me slowly lowered and a woman stepped into the moonlight.

Her skin was smooth, the color of toffee and capable of making the most beautiful jealous. Her eyes were piercing, a fierce challenging look that was contrasted by her soft features. She wore a smirk, her eyes taking me in. She had scars that ran across her throat, barely visible in the dull light. I could tell though that they were claw marks. She inhaled a slow breath before she spoke, her voice more stable this time. "You're the notorious vigilante?"

I paused, eyeing her carefully. I slowly lowered my gun and removed the wolf mask from my face.

Her expression never changed as her eyes took me in. Slowly a small smile broke out on her lips. "Stiles Stilinski. So you're the face behind the mask?"

I nodded slowly. "You know me?"

The girl chuckled a little. "Everyone and their cousin knows who you are. Deputy Stilinski, young man who graciously takes in aggressive werewolf. Tell me something, was he really all that aggressive?"

I shook my head slowly and watched her reaction.

"Ha, figures. Big ol mean werewolf turns out to be a big softie when you actually treat them like a human being."

"So wait who are you?" I asked slowly, still weary of the woman standing in front of me.

"Name's Breaden. And, believe it or not, I'm rooting for the same cause you are. Freedom for the wolves right?" She mumbled, tapping her shotgun against her thigh nonchalantly as if it were a harmless pen.

I nodded slowly. "Yeah...so is that what brought you here?"

Braeden shrugged and walked over to the counter. She placed her gun on top of the granite and turned towards me. "More or less...I have a specific wolf that was wrongly imprisoned, needs to be broken out, I'm the girl for the job."

I nodded slowly. "It's nice to know I have people on my side."

She cocked her head to the side. "There's a lot of people for the cause, but many are scared...I do have to thank you though."

"For what?"

"For directing the media to something else. It makes my job a lot more easier when my criminal acts are no longer on the front page ya know," she stated and let her fingers glide over the barrel of the shotgun. "It's a rough career choice, but hey at least it's for a good cause," she mumbled before she picked her gun off the counter and turned towards me. "I'd love to sit here and talk home life like normal people, but I've got a job to do...and I'm assuming you do to," she stated and motioned towards the gun I held in my hand.

I nodded slowly. "Good luck Braeden."

She flashed her pearly white teeth at me as she sauntered closer. "It's not goodbye Stilinski. With this line of work I'm sure we'll be seeing each other a lot," she mumbled before she passed by me. Before she disappeared into the darkness, she stopped and glanced back over at me. "Good luck Black Wolf," and with that she was gone.

I stood there for a little while glancing around at the lobby that surrounded me. She was right. Doing this was dangerous, but worth every act. As soon as that went through my head I wrapped my hands around the bat and swung. With every hit, with every item that crashed to the ground in broken pieces, came joy. The feeling of being able to change something, even if it was only a little, it was enthralling. No matter what came up I would continue doing this because this was what the world needed to change.

Getting back in that night was a breeze, as it is every night. Crawling back into bed made Derek stir a little, but as soon as he snuggled closer to me he was out again. The morning was easy, simple and calm. That's what I needed in between the stressful nights of my new pastime.

I was in my room, sorting files into manilla folders and writing exactly which different case they belonged to. It was a time consuming task, but it was interesting to see the different details in every case. Not to mention I was getting easy houses to hit with every case that involves wolf abuse. I was only brought out of my thoughts when I heard footsteps enter the room.

I smiled and turned around. "Hey Der-" I stopped, my eyes landing on the two objects that Derek held in his hands: my black jacket and the metal wolf mask.

His face was dark, his eyes narrowed directly at me. He was tense, the corners of his mouth turning down, almost in a snarl. His expression alone spoke thousands of words.

I sighed, a deep intake of breath that allowed me to sort my thoughts. "I was going to tell you-"

"-Stiles what the hell are you thinking?" He interrupted and threw the objects down onto the bed.

"I finally am thinking. You opened my eyes. I was able to help you."

"This is a lot larger than me," he mumbled, his voice verging on a growl.

I snorted. "Of course it is! It has always been larger than you and me. It always will be."

Derek sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Stiles do you realize what you're doing?"

I nodded sharply, my eyes set on his. "Yes I do. I'm doing what's right."

"Right for who?"

"For everyone! For the werewolves that have wrongly suffered on the cruel law that has been placed on them. For all the werewolves that have been beaten and prodded because of the way society views them. For you...your sisters and all of the other werewolves in your family that was wrongly treated. Your family was calm and respectful at all times and yet they were murdered in cold blood-"

"-stop," Derek lowered his gaze, his face turning from hard to hurt. I had just poured salt into his wounds, but I had to get my point across.

"Stop? Derek there are people suffering."

His eyes shot up his gaze intense, the anger returning back to his face. He stepped closer to me. "Don't you think I know that! I've been dealing with this my whole life!"

I didn't back down, my gaze never faltering from his. "Then you, out of everyone, should know that a little protesting is worth it," I stated and turned my back toward him.

"Of course, but this isn't a little protesting. This is vandalism, this is arsen. Stiles you've hurt people."

I turned sharply and glared at him. "And how many people have hurt you? Huh Derek?"

He seemed to be taken aback by this. He paused, his eyes lowering for a brief second before they returned back to me, memories pushed to the back of his mind. "That doesn't matter. Stiles you are jeopardizing everything for this! You're breaking the law and yet you are the law."

I shrugged. "Yeah well things change...people change."

Derek's eyes narrowed as he looked at me up and down. "Obviously," he growled before he turned abruptly and walked out the door.

I stayed there for a minute, staring at the ground and fiddling with the string on my jacket. My gaze traveled to the mask that sat atop the bed, taunting me. I has said that I'd continue this no matter what and I wasn't lying. Despite Derek's disagreement I still planned to go out that night.

I waited around for awhile, waiting until Derek went to bed to sneak out again. He never came back up to the room though. After a little while I went downstairs to see what was holding him up.

He was curled up on the couch and it was pretty obvious that him sleeping there was pretty intentional.

Despite this I still forced myself to go out that night and visit a case house. I went somewhere simple mainly based on the fact that my mind wasn't all there. It was back where a certain someone was, sleeping uncomfortably on the couch alone.


	7. Chapter 7

When I got home Derek still wasn't in the bed. My mind was torn two different ways. One side wanted to go and beg him to return to bed, to me. The other side was determined to go to bed and prove that this changed nothing. I decided on the latter, though my mind seemed to still fight back and forth into the later hours of the night.

Waking up without my warm werewolf with me was weird. There was just something missing in the large bed. I wandered down into the kitchen and Derek was nowhere to be found. I sighed and started making coffee. You don't seem to realize how important a person is until they are removed from your daily activities.

The coffee finished fairly quickly and I grabbed a cup before I plopped down into one of the bar stools. I was caught off guard when Derek walked in from outside.

He stopped in front of me, meeting my gaze head on as he placed his palms flat on the counter. "What else are you lying about?"

I stared at him blankly for a few seconds before I could gather my thoughts together. "What?"

"You've been doing this for weeks, running out in the middle of the night to commit crimes yet you've seem to forget to mention this to me. So my question is, is there anything else you're not telling me?"

I leaned forward, looking him straight in the eye. "No there's not. Derek I had to do this...and I knew that if I told you what I was doing you...you wouldn't allow it."

"So it seemed like a good idea to just do it anyway?"

I sighed, running my hand through my hair before I spoke. "Derek we've already already discussed this," I mumbled and stood up from the bar.

"No. I tried discussing it with you and you shut me down," he stated, the end tapering off into a growl.

"Yes...and this is me shutting you down again," I couldn't help the raise in my voice. I couldn't help how fast I got out of that kitchen. Whether Derek liked it or not I was going to do this.

Derek wasn't the only person who seemed to disagree with my tactics, the cops were searching endlessly for the black wolf. I couldn't count how many times I had heard police sirens in the distance as I finished my runs. I was very careful though, timing everything perfectly.

This run was no different. I held my bat in my hands carefully, stepping over the destruction I had just made of this woman's house. It was a huge house, many of opportunities to get the point across. I don't know if I got caught up in the destruction or I just became to confident in my time managing skills, but I had stayed way longer than expected. I was rounding the corner into the kitchen when I heard the front door click open.

I stilled and switched plans, deciding to take the back door to avoid confrontation with the owner of the house. I kept my movements light, my feet barely touching the wood as I snuck towards the glass door. I could see the panes of it letting in moonlight, I was so close. I reached out my hand. That's when I heard it, the sound of a pistol being cocked. I froze, my hands naturally rising in the air.

"Move and I shoot."

I would never mistake that voice for someone else's. I don't know which was worse: the fact that I had a gun pointed at me or the fact that my father had just caught me red handed.

"Turn around slowly."

I obeyed, keeping my hands high in the air as I turned to face my father.

He held the pistol in a death grip, his eyes dangerous and focused. I had seen him like this before, but never aimed at me. He looked way more terrifying from this end of the barrel.

"Please don't shoot," I pleaded, my eyes connecting with his through the holes of the mask.

His expression faltered, his brows knitting together as his eyes looked me over. He stepped forward, his gun lowering. When he neared me his hands found my mask and gently pulled the metal off my face. "Stiles?"

I smiled sheepishly. "Hey dad."

"You've got to be kidding me," He sighed. "Stiles what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Um just house sitting for an old friend," I supplied with a smirk.

"Yeah because lying is going to help in this situation. You know what I don't have the patience to arrest my own son tonight so you need to get as far away from here as possible. If I see you doing this again Stiles I'm going to have to take action, got it?" he stated.

I nodded quickly and grabbed the mask from his hands. "Got it dad,' I mumbled and backed out the door behind me.

I should've listened to my father. I really should've thrown away my equipment and called it quits. Of course I didn't though, I don't have enough common sense for that.

I was going to help the weres and if no one was going to help me then I was content doing it on my own. That was easier said than done. Derek continued to distance himself from me. He made a permanent room in the guest room. It felt wrong. It felt like before, when he hated me. When he couldn't stand me and I hated every second of it. Was it worth changing things if Derek wouldn't even talk to me? My movements became mechanical. The swing of the bat, the sound of red spray paint, was nothing to me. For some werewolves it was everything. A beacon of hope in the darkness that is their life. That's what kept me going and pushing forward.

The nights were bed always felt empty and cold. It never felt right. For the fifth night in a row I was tossing and turning. I couldn't get comfortable and I knew a different position wouldn't help that. It was that I was missing someone there with me.

I was about to give up on sleep when I heard the door open slowly. I opened my eyes to see Derek standing in the doorway.

He hesitated for a brief second before he made his way over to the bed. He slid in front of me, his face inches from mine. "Stiles?"

"Hmm?"

"I was thinking about it and...you're right," He mumbled slowly, his eyes dropping for a few seconds.

"About what?"

"About this being a lot bigger than you and me. We might not be able to save everyone, but we can try...I want to help Stiles," he stated and found my hand and entwined his fingers with mine.

I smiled. "Really?"

He smiled at me before he pulled me into an embrace. "Really."


	8. Chapter 8

We started by contacting Deaton and telling him that we needed yet another uniform made. He was all too eager to get working, he barely said goodbye before he hung up the phone. Once that was done, me and Derek ran through the motions of figuring out what house were were going to hit and when.

The first one went by without a hitch. We worked perfectly together, almost in sync. We never spoke a word, but somehow we knew just what to do.

When we returned we sat in silence, thinking over what the night had brung.

"Thank you for that," Derek mumbled.

I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face. "You're welcome."

We were whole again, back on the same side, and I was loving it. I felt powerful now, with Derek on my side. I was ready to tackle the world and whatever came with it and that's just what we did. We took on every house with extreme precision and caution, everything going off without a problem.

We we're living on cloud nine.

That's always where it breaks. You lose the control you thought you had and you watch it slip through your fingertips. The false sense of security you held so close to you plummets and you fall with it. First, goes control. Then, hope. And finally you just give up. There's nothing left. It's foolish to live on cloud nine. Even if it's just an overnight stay, something will shatter your world.

I held my bat low to the ground, my eyes scanning the hall through the mask. My footsteps were almost silent in the darkness, drown out by the noises coming from the cages that surrounded us.

Derek steps were in sync with mine, his presence a calming wall behind me.

Everything else was quiet.

Our plan was going by perfectly. We couldn't just let all of these wolves out like i had wanted to because that would just be a death sentence to every one of them. So instead we settled on just trashing the place. It was kind of tedious to just continue smashing things and destroying places. I felt like there was more we could do, but we couldn't just jump into things. We had to think of what was best for me and Derek and the rest of the werewolf community. So for now we walked through the dark hallways of the pound.

Derek pulled me out of my thoughts when he gripped onto my bicep.

I stalled and glanced back at him, eyeing his tense stance.

His eyes scanned the hallway before they found mine. "Stiles we gotta go, somethings wrong."

Right as he said that a sound erupted from the end of the hallway. A low whirring sound grew closer to us. I caught sight of what it was right before Derek pushed me closer to the wall. My back slammed into the concrete, it took me a few seconds to realize what was going on. I watched as the arrow lodged in Derek's stomach and he stumbled back a few feet.

I pushed myself off the wall towards Derek right as he fell, his back hitting the ground hard. I kneeled down next to him and removed my mask, my hands finding the wound in his stomach. The arrow was deep, bleed seeping out of the hole in his skin.

He blew a quick breath from his nose, his face scrunched in pain. "We need to go, now," he mumbled and started pushing his torso up off the ground.

I could hear footsteps growing behind us and the fear started to rise. I gripped onto Derek's sides and started helping him up. Just then I heard the same sound from before rushing towards us. I anticipated the blow, sure it was going to land in my side. I could practically feel the pain in my side already, but as that dissipated the arrow landed on the ground next to Derek's body.

I stared at it. There was no way that these people who had shot a werewolf in complete darkness wasn't able to shoot me as well. It didn't make sense.

I got my answer when the room suddenly lit up, the arrowhead assaulting the room with a blinding white light. I screamed out, my eyes burning from the intense brightness, as my hands gripped onto Derek's side. I could feel his hand find my arm, but I couldn't see anything at all.

I blinked rapidly, trying to clear the black spots from my vision. My eyes searching the room. I could see these black shadows growing closer to me and Derek. They only stopped when they were inches from Derek's body and suddenly he was yanked away from my grip.

"Derek," I yelled, my hands desperately grabbing for him. It was useless, I couldn't make out person from floor and the shadows seemed to be disappearing. I stood to my feet, my lack of vision throwing me off balance. I stumbled forward, my hands finding the walls and running along them. "Derek!"

I could hear my voice echoing off the walls and then silence after that. I still continued forward though, almost tripping over my own feet several times. I screamed his name desperately, stumbling down the hallway after them. Everything seemed to slow, my vision swirling giving me barely any sense of where I was going. My voice was like a broken record, but I called out anyway. My footsteps boomed through the hallway, slow and irregular as I tried to go as fast as I could. I could feel my mask hitting my leg periodically as I ran forward.

I could see something in the distance, growing closer with every step I took. It was double doors, moonlight shining in from the windows. I powered on and slammed full speed into the door with my shoulder.

The door swung open and I halted to a stop. My vision was clearing up allowing me to see that I was in an alleyway. A little ways down I could see a van parked, it's tail lights shining in the darkness.

I sprinted towards it, my vision finally clearing. I was so close, steps away from reaching those back doors before the van sped off, leaving smoke in its wake.

I took off running. The sound of my feet hitting the pavement echoed through my head. Teasing me as the van's engine grew quieter and quieter as it sped away from me. It took a sharp right at the corner, disappearing from my view.

I slowed to a stop. It was hopeless. Running after a vehicle was just idiotic. He was gone, stolen by people who obviously had no problem harming him.

In the distance I could hear sirens growing closer, closing in on me. I could see the flashing red lights reflecting on the brick walls. It was time to go. I had to go home. Gather myself. Then find out who took Derek and where they took him.

I pulled my mask from my belt loop and slid it on before I turned around. I took off, mentally mapping where my car sat and what route to take out of here. Parking in the back of the place was the smartest idea ever. It took no time to get to my car and crank the engine on. In 5 seconds I was pulling onto the back road and dialing my dad at the same time. I counted the seconds between each ring, chewing on my bottom lip and I rounded each curve 20 over the speed limit.

"Stiles what the hell are you doing calling me at 3 o'clock in the goddamn morning?" his voice was clogged with sleep.

"Dad, listen to me. I know you said to not do any more trips and we can discuss how mad you are at me later, but they took Derek," I rambled out.

"Wait, who's they?"

"I don't know. I didn't see them, but please dad I need your help," I murmured, ignoring the red light I had just powered through.

"Okay, meet me here," he stated quickly, before he hung up.

I threw my phone down on the seat and refocused on going 20 over the limit. Attention was the last thing I wanted in that moment, but that didn't seem to matter when Derek's life could be in danger. I made it to my father's house in the next five minutes.

I jumped out and ran inside.

My dad was standing by the table, a map sprawled over the wood. His eyes cut up to me. "Stiles what the hell were you thinking?" He mumbled and looked back down at the map in front of him, where he used a red pen to circle places on the map.

I ran a hand through my hair, tugging at the ends. "I don't know. I don't know what happened. Everything was okay, we were working together and Derek he...he was happy again and how could things turn to shit so quickly...I have to find him dad. I don't...I just can't do this without-" I rambled, my hands wringing together.

My dad looked back up, his hand stilling on the map. "Hey Stiles."

I met his eyes, watching his stern father expression fade to concern.

"We're going to find him...okay?"

I nodded slowly and forced myself to take a deep breath. I had to go about this like an officer. I was looking for a missing person, not someone I would give my life up for. If I went into this full of emotion I would be endangering both myself and Derek.

So I pressed my palms against the table and leaned forward, peering down at the map. "Okay, where do we start?"


	9. Chapter 9

I jumped back into my Jeep, my hands gripping the steering wheel tightly showing the desperation I was feeling. I leaned forward and pressed my forehead against the steering wheel, inhaling a deep breath. Four abandoned warehouses later and he was nowhere to be found. There weren't many places in Beacon Hills left that he could be. I reminded myself that as I picked my head up off the wheel.

I drove quickly along the back road, only slowing when I saw a very familiar black van parked in front of a large warehouse. I slowed to a stop and turned my car off, leaning forward to observe the dark building in front of me. I could hear my dad's car pull up behind me just before I climbed out of my Jeep.

"Is this it?" My father asked as he walked up beside me.

I nodded slowly and eyed the entrance before I started inside. I opened the door slowly, watching the beam of light my dad held circle around the room.

The room was dark and cold, silence stretching on in front of me.

My father's flashlight halted on a figure crouched in the corner.

I froze. "Oh my god, there he is," I mumbled and ran forward.

Derek was sitting on the ground, his head leaned against a large pole that his hands were tied to. A rope wrapped around his wrists and around the concrete pole.

I could see tiny purple flowers attached to the rope, none other than wolfsbane. I grabbed the rope and started undoing the multiple knots that were spread across the string. I finished the last knot and watched Derek's hands drop limply to the floor.

I placed my hands on his cheeks and lifted his head off the pole. "Hey, hey Derek open your eyes," I whispered, my fingers drumming against his skin.

His head lolled forward, his body limp against the pole.

"Come on, please Derek," I stated and shook his body slightly.

His eyes flickered open and found mine. "Stiles?" His voice was so broken and raspy as he reached out for me. His hand dug into the fabric on my arm as he tried to pull me closer.

"You're safe now," I whispered, my thumb stroking his cheek.

My father stepped up behind me. "Get him out of here, I'll go find the people who did this," he stated before he started out the warehouse.

I nodded and wrapped my arm around Derek's torso. "Hey can you stand up for me?" I whispered and watched him nod slowly.

He held onto the pole and pushed his body up off the ground. He winced, his body leaning against mine as he stumbled a step forward.

I held onto him tightly, allowing him to use my body as support as he stumbled forward.

We made it halfway out of the warehouse before Derek stalled. His body started trembling, his hand digging into my side. He suddenly dropped to the ground, on his hands and knees, and started heaving. He coughed up an array of purple petals that collected on the ground underneath him.

I dropped to the ground on my knees, my hands finding his face one again. "Derek hey look at me," I mumbled.

He lifted his head, his eyes connecting with mine for a brief second before his eyes rolled back in his head.

I pulled his body into my chest and frantically searched for my dad. I found him digging through the black van that sat near us. "Dad, He's not healing," I yelled, my hand carding through his hair.

In seconds my dad was beside me. "Jesus he looks rough...take him to Deaton, I'll stay here," he mumbled.

I wrapped my arm around his torso and lifted his body off the ground. I dragged him along beside me, pulling him toward the passenger side of the Jeep. I popped the door open and slid his body inside.

He gripped tightly onto my jacket, his eyes searching for mine. "Stiles?"

"Shhh, we're going to Deaton's okay? You're safe now," I whispered, my hand rubbing circles on his skin. I then backed up and shut the door.

If I thought I was going fast before, I was severely mistaken. A new sense of urgency hit me as Derek winced and whined beside me. I rounded every corner quickly, powering through every light I came to.

Deaton met me outside and helped bring Derek inside the office. We placed him on top of the steel table.

I held onto Derek's arm, my other had running through his hair.

"What happened?" Deaton asked, moving frantically around in the cabinets.

"These hunters kidnapped him. We found him tied to a pole, wolfsbane rope tied around him."

He nodded and continued his pursuit in whatever he was looking for. "One good thing about these people being very amature hunters, they're pretty unoriginal. This strain of wolfsbane is the most common in the book, thus very easy to cure," he mumbled and pulled out a jar of some type of purple cream.

After he rubbed the purple cream on Derek's wounds, his body seemed to relax.

Deaton sent us home with strict instructions on letting Derek rest. With time, the wolfsbane would gradually leave his system and he'll feel better. So Derek stayed in bed most of the day, trying to rest up.

I pushed the bedroom door open, balancing soup in one hand and water in the other. I stepped slowly and carefully, trying not to spill anything. I sat the bowl and cup down on the nightstand and sat down on the side of the bed.

Derek looked so peaceful, curled up tight under the blankets.

I almost didn't want to wake him, but he really had to eat. I placed my hand on his shoulder and shook gently.

He jumped, his hand shooting out and grabbing my wrist roughly. His eyes shot open, connecting with mine instantly. He released a breath and loosened his grip on me.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked slowly and pulled his hand off my wrist. I entwined my hand with his and squeezed.

His eyes trailed to the ground, before he nodded slowly. He was acting odd and he continued acting odd for the next few days. He wasn't the normal Derek I was used to, he wasn't even the old Derek. He barely spoke to me and he never wanted to go outside. He stayed in the comfort of the room, and when he ventured out he always had some shirt of mine in hand.

I asked him what that was about one day and he simply shrugged it off. I knew why though, deep down I knew that he was on edge. The bedroom was where our scents were the strongest and when he wasn't in there he needed something strong enough to calm him down, to keep him grounded.

I tried to be respectful with his situation and not push too hard, but it was getting increasingly hard to ignore the elephant in the room. Derek spoke no word of what happened to him that night and it worried me. I stayed strong though, for both Derek and myself. It got even harder when every time I touched him he flinched. Eventually I couldn't take it anymore, I had to get to the bottom of this and find a way to fix it.


	10. Chapter 10

I walked into the room, hoping the news my dad told me would lift Derek's spirits a little bit. "Hey Derek?"

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands locked together. He glanced up at me.

"My dad found the men, they're going to pay for what they did," I mumbled slowly, eyeing his reaction.

He nodded before his eyes trailed down to the ground.

I stepped forward, cautious of Derek who was slouched over on the bed in front of me.

Derek rung his hands, his eyes fixated on the floor. He was tense, the muscles in his shoulders never easing.

"Please just tell me what I can do to help. I can't see you like this and not do anything," I pleaded. I crouched down on the ground, my hands finding Derek's and untangling them.

"You can't erase what happened," He mumbled, almost too low for me to hear him.

I gripped tightly onto his hands before I spoke. "Tell me what happened and I will do everything in my power to make this right."

Derek inhaled a deep breath before he spoke, gaining the courage to talk. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

He looked up at me, his eyes finally connecting with mine. He then released my hand and placed it on the side of my neck.

The touched comforted me, but soon it was easy to tell that wasn't his intention. His fingers found the back of my neck just before I felt a sharp pain flare down my spine.

I sucked in a deep breath, my body tensing from the pain. My vision faded, Derek's face morphing into the face of one of the hunters my father had took in. I was seeing what had happened through the eyes of Derek. Soon my vision became crystal clear, the ugly faces of the three men flashing briefly before I was forced to the floor.

I landed roughly, my knees slamming against the ground. I could feel every inch of pain that Derek had felt.

One of the men pushed a bowl towards me with his foot. It slid to a stop right in front of my hands. "Eat it dog," the man grumbled above me.

It took me a few moments to figure out exactly what was in the bowl. It was a mountain of dog food, with purple petals sprinkled in between the chunks.

One of the men gripped onto my collar and yanked my head upwards. He pulled his fist back and it collided with the side of my face.

Pain flared up my face, igniting my nerves as I fell back down onto my hands.

"I said eat it."

A few seconds of hesitation later I was forced to the ground, my cheek digging into the concrete. My arm was forced behind me, roughly.

In one swift movement, the man gripped onto my arm and jerked it to the side.

I heard a loud snap just before pain erupted from my arm. I could feel all the pain, I could hear Derek's scream of pain echoing throughout the room.

The men then lifted me off the ground and forced me through a back room hidden in the warehouse. They pushed me to the floor and forced my head to the ground.

I could feel the men surround me, I could feel them pinning me down, I could feel them press against me. I could tell Derek was struggling, his limbs flexing and trying desperately to pull himself out of this situation. I could feel the men ripping off Derek's clothes. I could feel the pain, the guilt, the disgust that Derek felt. I could also feel the moment Derek gave up, his body going limp as he stared at the wall. He had lost hope, he had lost himself, and these men were taking advantage of him.

I felt every feeling of guilt he felt just before my vision darkened. I opened my eyes. I was face to face with Derek. I could see his facade falling right before my eyes. His cheeks turned red, his eyes glossing over before he backed away from me. His eyes dropped as he pulled his knees up to his chest.

I tried to hold in the tears, I tried so hard, but I couldn't help the complete helplessness I felt in that moment. I sat on the bed in front of him, my hand finding his cheek.

"I'm so sorry Stiles," he whimpered, his body curling further in on itself.

"Hey none of this is your fault," I whispered and lifted his head to look at me.

His eyes connected with mine for a brief second.

I could see the tears escaping from his eyes, I could see the hopeless look that was written all over his face. "You're safe now, okay?" I stated and wiped the tears from his cheek with my thumb.

He dropped his head, his body trembling.

I pulled him into my chest, wrapping my arms protectively around him. I tucked his head under my chin and held him there. I could feel his body shaking and I could hear the little intakes of breath. He was crying and I couldn't do anything to stop it, except hold him there in that moment and never let go.

Derek wasn't going to get hurt anymore. I was done jeopardizing his life and mine for this cause. He was hurting, in so many different ways. He'd lost all his family and all of himself in a brief period of time. My main goal was to get him well again and keep him happy. Someone else was going to have to pick up this cause. I was done being The Black Wolf, I was done being a pawn for this revolution because I was destroying my own board in the process.

We had to leave.

So on the way out of town I made a pit stop at Deaton's. I had to get rid of the items that were holding me down.

Derek was lying in the back seat, tucked in with a blanket that he held close to his body.

I grabbed the bag next to me and hopped out the car. When I made it into the office I plopped the bag down on one of the tables.

Deaton didn't move from where he was at the counter. "Stiles, just the person I wanted to see," he stated and turned toward me. "I was able to gather up a few of my...colleges to guarantee your safety during your runs, you should-"

"No" I interrupted him and pushed the bag toward him.

"No?"

All the feelings seemed to rush into me at once. The need to protect Derek boring into me like a freight train. "I...I can't do it anymore. I can't...not after what happened to Derek. I...I just can't," I rambled, my hand running through my hair nervously.

Deaton stepped forward and placed his hand on top of the bag. "You have finally opened their eyes to what is actually going on in this society and you're going to give up now? Derek's okay now so what don't you help the ones that are not."

"Okay? Derek was raped...is that what you call okay?" I snapped, unable to stop the words before they flew from my mouth.

He froze, his body stilled as he stared at me blankly. "What?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Yeah right after they broke his arm, beat him up, rubbed him down with wolfsbane, and force fed him dog food. He barely eats, and his sleep is filled with nightmares. I can't even touch his shoulder without him flinching away from me. So yeah we're just peachy," I spouted. I gripped tightly onto the bag that sat between as I leaned closer to him. "Find someone else to be your Black Wolf," I enunciated before I released the bag and walked out.

Derek was right where I left him, curled up peacefully. I needed to find somewhere that he could find that same peace while he was awake.

In that moment the only thing I wanted to do was get Derek as far away from Beacon Hills as possible. So that's what I did.


	11. Chapter 11

Scott

All eyes were on me. The charity seemed nonexistent to the eyes of the audience because they were too concerned with watching me.

Allison was with the kids, all smiles and sing song octaves, but it didn't seem to matter. The kids were terrified of me, the scary werewolf that stood behind the frail girl.

Everyone could see the collar that restrained my neck and that's all that seemed to matter. No one cared about who I was, only what I was.

Allison stepped back and entwined her fingers with mine, causing any stress I felt to disappear.

I had to be happy with what I had. I had someone who cared about me and didn't beat me on the daily. That's a lot more than other were's could say. But when every smile you offered was returned with a glare it was extremely difficult to appreciate anything.

Lydia

The world was changing. I could feel it, I could see it. More people were becoming aware of what was going on and they were upset. They were scared and without a face to lead them, they were lost. I don't know what happened to Stiles or why he dropped off the face of the earth, but we need him. I haven't heard anything from him and the news say that 'The Black Wolf' is no more, but I refuse to believe that. The wolves are tired of this oppression and the people are rallying behind them. So weather Stiles comes back or not, this tension is going to explode. I just hope we all don't suffer from the shrapnel.

Breaden

What do I do now? Staring at the guns lined up along the table, contemplating my next move. I could go into every pound, guns blazing, but what would that do? Get me arrested and make the struggle that much harder. So it was better to lay low for right now.

Everything was moving smoothly, the people were stepping with the cause, and then the black wolf had to disappear.

I remember meeting Stiles for the first time. I really had thought that he was going to be different, that he was brave. Clearly I was wrong. The first hint of a rocky struggle he high tails it to the hills. So if he wants to cower out then I guess I'll take over the cause.

Derek

The room was dark, moonlight glinting off the mirror on the wall. The face I saw was not mine. It was a man who was afraid to be brave, afraid to fight for what's right. A wolf afraid of monsters under the bed.

I still had lingering nightmares when I slept. I still flinched when someone grabbed me too hard. Things still sent me back to that night, but I had someone who was willing to risk everything for me. Someone who protected and cared for me no matter what. That was so much more than many were's could say.

I reached up and let my fingers graze over the leather that hung tightly around my neck. It's power was lingering, shocks a distant memory in my mind. I could still feel the electricity when I moved a certain way, the leather reminding me of the constant pain I used to feel every single day.

That's the reason I couldn't sit back in the comfort of my home. There were were's that felt this daily, just as I had, and I couldn't allow that.

The sound of footsteps interrupted my thoughts. I knew who it was. The safe scent and the fast heartbeat gave it away. That didn't stop me from looking up though. Through the mirror my eyes connected with Stiles'.

He was concerned, I could see it written all over his face. "You okay?"

I nodded slowly, my gaze dropping from the mirror. I let my fingers stall over the leather for a few more seconds before I dropped my hand. I could feel Stiles approach slowly before two arms wrapped around me. I could feel his body flush against my back.

"You don't seem okay."

I sighed deeply. "I feel...helpless."

Stiles nodded and pressed his forehead into my back. "Me too," he mumbled against the fabric of my shirt.

"We can change that."

Stiles' hands removed from around me and he stepped back.

I turned toward him, eyeing his defensive stance. "Stiles, we aren't helpless. We can do something."

His eyes dropped to the ground as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I can't put you in danger anymore. I'm supposed to protect you."

"Yes and you have. You saved me Stiles...and now we need to save everyone else," I stated and placed my hands on both sides of his arms.

His caramel eyes rose and met mine. "Why? We're content here."

"Don't lie to yourself Stiles. Your fire may have been shrouded, but it can never be extinguished. No matter where we go, no matter where we live, we will always be in danger and there will always be werewolves suffering at the hands of others. I can't sit on the sidelines and neither can you."

His eyes stayed on mine for a few seconds, searching through them before he spoke. "You're right."

A smirk broke out on my face. I could see the determination return back to Stiles' face, the gleam in his eye shining bright once more. "The Black Wolf is back?"

His smile mirrored mine as his body seemed to shake with pent up energy. "The Black Wolf is back."


End file.
